


Fading Out

by Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2020 (Part One!) [13]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Nonbinary Show Pony (Danger Days), Tagged as character death just in case, oh!, uhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25648798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth/pseuds/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth
Summary: Show Pony's fucking dying
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2020 (Part One!) [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767937
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	Fading Out

Ae're dying. Ae're bleeding and dying and alone, and ae weren't supposed to die like this, weren't supposed to let this happen. And yet. 

Show Pony's hand flutters on the handle of the fucking _knife_ buried six inches deep in aer stomach. Ae know ae're not supposed to remove it so ae don't _bleed to death_ , but it's been so long and the blood is still trickling out of aer, aer racing heart doing it's best to fucking kill aer. Aer nicest t-shirt, the orange one, is wrecked, too. A shame, ae would have liked to be buried in it. Will anyone even find aer? ae're in the middle of nowhere, at the bottom of some nondescript sand dune. Ae try to sit up, adjust aer pose, and ae thought ae'd gotten used to the damn pain by now, but moving hurts like nothing else, and ae _scream_ as it feels like aer fucking guts are _ripping the fuck apart_ and the desert is really fucking hot at midday, but ae're shivering. This is the fucking end, isn't it? Ae're so screwed. Ae'll just end up being some damn mystery Batt Rats tell each other around the fire at night, nobody'll ever know what happened. Ae don't even know what happened, really, but now ae're here on the ground with a fucking stab wound, wind already blowing sand up around aer, burying aer.

Aer vision is getting fuzzy, too. Ae think that means ae're getting closer to dying. That's what all of it means, doesn't it? In the literal and the metaphorical sense. Or something like that. Ae don't really care. Ae bring aer wrist up into aer line of sight, looking at the bad luck beads dangling from aer wrist. Ae guess the beads couldn't keep something like this from happening, hm? Oh well. The beads are pretty, at least, catching the light of the sun and sparkling. NewsAGoGo had found some shimmery paint to dip them in. Show Pony had proclaimed them "The best damn beads I've ever seen, darlin'," and NewsAGoGo had thrown their arms around aer with a grin. Fun times. Ae wish ae could see Newsie one more time, or the Doctor, or Cherri Cola. Anyone, really. Ae don't much like the idea of dying alone. Ae don't much like the idea of dying. But it's one of those things that happens to everyone, so ae'll just have to accept it, or some bullshit like that. Great. 

Ae trace patterns in the sand with aer fingers, and the wind blows them away. It's so damn quiet. Shit. Ae're dying, ae need to _do something_ , ae struggle to sit up once again, and the knife twists and pulls and ae scream, _again_ , because there's really nothing else you can do when you're dying alone in the middle of a barren fucking desert. Ae haven't seen the Witch yet. Ae don't know what to think about that. On the one hand, maybe it means ae're not dying nearly as much as ae thought, but on the other hand, maybe ae're just not important enough for a divine visitation. Damn. Cherri Cola's gotten a dozen visits from the Witch for a dozen near-death experiences, and Show Pony's gotten exactly zero. Does the Witch even exist? Maybe Cherri was lying to aer. But why would he do that? Show Pony doesn't have nearly enough blood to think about that. Does how much blood you have effect how well you can think? Ae can't remember, which is probably a sign that it does. And ae'll never know, not if ae fucking die here. Oh well. Such is life and such is death, ae suppose. Maybe when ae die, someone will tell aer. If ae can still _think_ when ae're dead. Ae kind of wish ae'd just hurry up and get it over with, so ae can find out, so ae don't have to feel the knife in aer fucking stomach leeching all the life out of them with an icy, burning pain. It's kind of a pretty knife, ae think, shiny, shiny metal and a polished wooden hilt. In another life, maybe ae'd have had a knife like this, maybe ae'd have been the one burying it into someone else's guts and leaving them to die, all alone. How long has it been? Time is kinda fucked when you're bleeding out, both agonizingly slow and way too fat, watching the rest of your life come rushing up to meet you. Show Pony is scared. Scared and lonely and a little bit angry. Angry that this is how ae're going to die. Angry that ae didn't do more to stop it. Angry that someone stabbed them in the first place. Who does that? Who just up and stabs somebody? People with knives, apparently. And ae're never going to know who it was. Maybe if ae knew, ae'd get to at least become a ghost, haunting around the desert looking for revenge, or justice, or something. Or maybe just a friend. It must be pretty lonely, being a ghost. Ae don't want to be a ghost. Ae don't want to die. But ae are dying, and there's nothing ae can do about it. Ae close aer eyes. Oh well. Maybe the afterlife will be cool. Or something.

Ae can't feel anything anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> And here we are! If you like reading agonizingly long descriptions of death, let me know in the comments below, and come find me on tumblr @wishiwasthemoon-tonight! :)


End file.
